


The Batman Dances

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Obsidian, Steel, and Gold [6]
Category: DC Animated Universe, DCU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: Batman reflects on different kinds of dancing.





	The Batman Dances

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place up to and during the Justice League episode "Maid of Honor".
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, the title is a Doctor Who reference.

Against his better judgment, he'd started sparring with Diana. Batman had told himself that he was just trying to understand her better and give her some additional training, and of course learn more about her weaknesses. As she'd pointed out herself, Diana was only familiar with Amazonian fighting techniques. She was an excellent student; a quick study, but endlessly willing to take her time learning a particular move. He'd thought she might be unwilling to learn from someone who was so much younger and - to be frank - mortal and male, but she seemed to have no issues with learning from him. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. Not that Batman showed that he was enjoying himself. 

He and Clark had rarely sparred; it was too dangerous. The Kryptonian was very careful, but in a combat situation, he used other ways of making sure that he didn't hurt non-superpowered people too badly. Bruce didn't mind bruises, but broken bones from practice was a little too much. He got that enough from work. Diana seemed to know exactly how much force he could take when she hit him, which wasn't often. 

So they trained together, learned each others' moves. Then they started fighting the robots in the encounter room side by side, and that was better. They synced. Batman always knew where others were in battle, but he was hyper-aware of Diana, much like he was hyper-aware of Superman. He'd always assumed it was the Kryptonian's unnatural heat that drew his senses, but now... well. Diana was cool and flowed like water. No, a non-Newtonian liquid that became solid when struck. Bullets bounced off of her, ricocheted off her bracers, but she moved with fluid grace and elegance. 

They worked side by side with the rest of the team. He kept track of them all, commanding their tactics. Hawkgirl there, Green Lantern there, Superman over there, Diana over here. They each blinked in his mind, brilliant colors against a playing field of villains, but Diana and Superman burned bright blue and red, paling Hawkgirl's golden bronze and Lantern's green. He didn't understand, but if it helped with battle tactics, Batman would take it. 

Then came Paris. 

He was there as Bruce Wayne, taking in the City of Lights. He sensed that something was going on the shadows, but wasn't sure what yet. It just a coincidence that he happened to be at the same party as Diana. Alright, it wasn't a coincidence. He wanted to see her in her civilian guise, so strangely unworldly and innocent. He couldn't help but save her from the paparazzi as they mobbed the poor princess. Dancing with her had been everything he'd thought it would be, if brief. And nothing made him happier than sitting back and watching her work as she defended the Kaznian princess. 

But when she'd been captured by Vandal Savage, that state of over-protectiveness took over again. Seeing her trapped in a cell clearly designed to contain someone like her or Superman, made him grind his teeth. He could get her out, but unscathed? If she was injured or unable to use her powers, Batman couldn't take Savage on his own. He couldn't be certain he could protect her and the civilians. As much as he hated to, he called for backup, only to be denied. 

So he planned. He took out as many guards as he could before getting to the prison and releasing Diana. And then he was fighting by her side and the world flowed around them. 

Sometimes a fight was just dirty and brutal, all pain and blood, fast and hard. The strangely dull thud of leather on skin. Desperate adrenaline as you ducked and wove. Bruises that went deep, that cracked bones. Afterwards you sewed up your own wounds with no anesthetic, hoping the scar wouldn't show too badly. 

Sometimes it was like dancing, where time slowed and his awareness was everywhere at once. He went beyond pain and blood became a spray of rubies drifting through the air. He could feel everything, see every punch or shot coming before was even released. His allies burning bright around him, rarely dancing with him, but Diana... 

He felt Diana behind him, preparing to step around to the front to deflect the bullets about to be shot at his chest. He moved with her, throwing a baterang at the guard taking aim at her exposed side, punching another on his way past. The bullets pinged off her bracers and she grabbed another guard and tossed him aside, while Batman dealt with yet another guard with an elbow to the face. 

Yes, this was the dance. A flow of liquid and shadow, battling their way to freedom in perfect sync. 

He wondered if they'd ever talk about it. Batman decided they wouldn't. The only acknowledgment was an exchanged smile of triumph. 

Much later, when the small blonde queen had Vandal Savage taken away, and they stood alone together, she finally spoke to him. “You know, we never did get to finish our dance.” 

For a brief second, he was actually confused, they had danced, danced in a way only they could. He kept his expression perfectly neutral though. The perfect poker face. When he realized what she actually meant, his estimation of her leaped yet again. 

“I don't know what your talking about.” 

“If you say so.” She smiled knowingly. “But you're still taking me dancing.” 

Diana slipped her arm through Batman's. He didn't pull away. Instead, the Bat was thinking, I'll dance with you any time, princess.


End file.
